


Back to the Start

by Goldy



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: AU post 4x17, Angst, Canon compliant to 4x16, Drama, F/M, Retrospective, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-02-23 14:00:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23412637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldy/pseuds/Goldy
Summary: Post 4x16. The fallout from Archie and Betty’s fake dating ruse.He looks across the yard – the flowerbeds lovingly shaped by Fred Andrews, the lawn where they used to run through the sprinkler, the shed that Archie and Fred built the year before he died. He can see and remember hundreds of memories – playing catch, hide-and-seek, sipping lemonade, building a doomsday bunker, and laughing, always laughing.He sees all of that, their childhood, him and Archie, and he has never felt further away from his best friend.
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 52
Kudos: 125
Collections: 7th Bughead Fanfiction Awards - Nominees





	1. Chapter One

Archie, Jughead and Betty have been best friends all their lives.

That’s their origin story, isn’t it? Every good story needs a compelling background and here it is – the three best friends from Riverdale, the town with pep! Growing up together, ready to face Riverdale High and then enter adulthood together.

But Jughead’s life isn’t a novel. And if he isn’t honest with himself then who will be? The truth is this: Jughead and Betty have been best friends with Archie Andrews all their lives.

When Jughead was young, Betty Cooper was not his friend. No, Betty Cooper was Archie’s friend – Archie’s _other_ best friend. At best, they _tolerated_ each other. They tolerated each other for Archie’s sake.

Betty thought he was quiet, moody, and pretentious. He thought she was stuck up, privileged, too _girly_.

They spent years locked in a silent battle for Archie’s attention, each trying to stay one foot ahead of the other. Betty had the territorial advantage, of course. Betty got to live next door. She got to be there day and night (but _never_ for sleepovers, Alice Smith aka Cooper would not allow it). But Jughead got to do the “boy stuff.” The stuff that involved setting up trenches in Archie’s backyard and shooting at invisible alien enemies over the fence. Stuff that made Betty blow air through her nose in frustration and stomp back to her house.

As they grew older, the competition between them softened. During summertime, it was almost forgotten. Summer was when they _shined_. The three of them spent nearly every day outside, biking, playing tag, and running through the sprinkler in Archie’s backyard. Fred Andrews played catch with them in the evenings and taught them how to kick a soccer ball on warm summer afternoons.

So Jughead and Betty tolerated each other, and maybe even came to _like_ each other, but Archie was still the thing they had in common, the glue that brought them together.

And then it all changed.

Jughead can’t put his finger on exactly when it changed. He knows for sure it had to do with hitting puberty and hormones and bodily changes that he had no control over. Because suddenly instead of Archie’s _other_ best friend, he was suddenly noticing _things_ about Betty that he had never noticed before. Like her hair, and the way she smelled like flowers (Archie _never_ smelled like flowers), and the way she started wearing those v-cut shirts where he could just see the swell of the top of her breast…

It was terrifying and exhilarating and embarrassing all at once. What if Archie noticed? What if _Betty_ noticed? Betty was smart – she would _definitely_ notice if he was staring at her all the time and started following her around and, anyway, he definitely could not follow her around or stare at her because that was creepy and wrong and Betty deserved to be respected.

When they started high school, Archie discovered sports. Suddenly, sports became Archie’s _other_ best friend. First it was soccer and then it was baseball and then football, yes, definitely football, football was the one – and both Jughead and Betty were left on the sidelines, staring in.

They stopped going to Archie’s after school every day. They still saw him on the weekends, but now they had to share him with football practice and football matches.

Jughead lost Betty too, in a way. It was not like the two of them were suddenly going to start hanging out on their own if Archie wasn’t there. That wasn’t in the playbook. Betty adapted. She found Kevin – her new, _other_ best friend.

And Jughead? Jughead had his writing and his booth at Pop’s. He didn’t need anything or anyone else.

Frankly, part of him was relieved. Less time with Archie and Betty meant that he could get rid of _this_ \- this feeling that kept swelling inside of him that terrified him. It meant that they wouldn’t discover it, his secret, his secret _shame_. If they didn’t discover it then they could all just keep going like nothing had changed.

But the feeling was exhilarating, too. It kept him going when his mother left and took Jellybean and stopped answering her phone. And his father stopped coming home or, worse, he came home drunk, yelling and swearing before passing out on the floor in front of his bed. It distracted him when he was hungry because his dad lost yet another job and he couldn’t make quite enough at the drive-in theatre to feed himself.

The best days were the days when it rained or it was too cold for football practice. Betty would march the three of them back to the Andrews’ house and make them do their homework. On those days, it was just the three of them again, there was no Reggie, no football friends they had to share Archie with. And Fred always made sure that there was plenty to eat.

But the best part was that he got to indulge in what was quickly becoming his favourite activity: watching Betty. She was very strict, very bossy, very convinced that Archie would fail out of school if she didn’t sit him down and force him to do his homework. Archie complained and hated it and tried to convince her to let them play Mario Kart first, just for a bit, and Betty, hands on hips, insisted the homework came first, Archie Andrews, and just how much would he like to repeat freshman year?

Jughead couldn’t stop himself from staring at her when she got like that, his mouth dry, and his heart pounding so loudly in his ears that he thought for sure Archie and Betty would hear it and find him out.

They never did.

The more she pushed them, the more Archie grumbled, the cuter she became, and the more he started having _those_ thoughts – thoughts he had never had before about _anyone_. Thoughts that made him feel ashamed because Betty was his _friend,_ and friends shouldn’t be thought of like _that_.

He tried not to look her in the eyes. When Archie grumbled about her forcing him to do homework, Jughead tried to grumble louder. He was sullen. He barely spoke to her and, when he did, he tried to make obscure literary references that he knew would make her roll her eyes.

Jughead was, he knew, the equivalent of an eight-year-old boy tugging on her pigtails in the schoolyard because he liked her.

But the thing was, Jughead wasn’t blind. He knew what was happening. While he was watching Betty, Betty was watching Archie.

It all made literary sense. Betty Cooper, the girl of his dreams, was not meant to love him back. Of course she would love Archie – who wouldn’t? Archie was kind and handsome and destined to be captain of the football team. More importantly, _Archie_ grew up on the right side of the tracks – he lived in a proper house, not a trailer, and he had actual parents who loved him and looked after him. Fred Andrews never came back from a three day bender to vomit in the kitchen sink and pass out fully clothed facedown on the couch with the TV blaring. Archie Andrews was the type of boy that girls wanted to bring to Prom and introduce to their dads.

So Jughead _had_ to keep it a secret, the crush (and that’s what he told himself it was, _just_ a crush) because if she knew, if she found out… she would reject him. He would lose her, and maybe lose Archie too, and these precious days they still had at the Andrews’ house with lots of food and Fred Andrews looking after them and Betty in her tight sweaters… those days would end.

And Jughead had already lost too much.

****

“Whatcha thinking about?”

Betty’s voice breaks through his haze and he blinks down at her. She’s spooned across his chest, sleepy and relaxed. She’s still wearing his t-shirt and her hair is splayed out messily around her. He _loves_ this look on her. He thinks she should always wear his t-shirts and wear her hair down and, really, she should just stay here with him in this bunker permanently. Why would they ever need to leave? 

He thinks back to earlier – “ _You know you’re the only man for me.”_

It had seemed like a good plan at the time. How to convince the rest of the town and the Preppies that he was really dead?

_“What if I was caught kissing Archie?”_ Betty had suggested.

And they had all nodded and sketched out how it would work and how they would be caught and even wrote lines for Veronica to say when she confronted them in a very public way.

It was an act and it was an act that _worked_ – so why can’t he stop the panic gnawing at him from the inside?

Betty is still waiting for him to say something. “Jughead?” she prompts, concern now furrowing across her brow. “Is everything okay?”

He smiles and curls a lock of her hair around his finger. “I was just thinking about what I would do if I lost you,” he says honestly.

Her face softens, eyes shining with love – _for him,_ he reminds himself – and she says. “Good thing you never have to worry about that.”

He presses a kiss to her forehead and breathes her in. “Good thing."


	2. Chapter Two

Jughead has been back at Riverdale High for a week when he receives a strange text from Archie:

Hey man, can you come by? I need to talk to you about something.

It’s Sunday and the house is quiet. Betty and Alice are at the grocery store to pick up food for dinner. Jellybean is in her room finishing up homework and FP is downstairs watching TV.

He texts back to Archie:

Sure, I’ll be right over.

A moment passes and then his phone lights up with Archie’s reply:

Great. I’ll be out back.

Jughead jogs across the street, cuts through the driveway and opens the gate to the backyard of the Andrews’ house. Late afternoon sunshine streams across the yard. The lawn is still brown and muddy from winter, but the breeze is mild and green shoots are starting to sprout out in the garden.

Archie stands on the back porch wearing only a t-shirt. He sips a can of beer while leaning casually back against the kitchen door.

He waves when he sees Jughead and holds another can of beer in his direction. “Want one?”

Jughead climbs the stairs up to the porch and eyes the proffered can wearily. Last time he had a beer, he was almost brained to death by his classmates.

But something on Archie’s face tells Jughead he’s going to regret turning it down.

“Sure, thanks,” he says, taking the offering. He pops the cap and takes a swig, studying Archie carefully. His friend is doing his best to look casual and unconcerned, but his left leg is jittering and his fingers are tugging and pulling at the cap on his beer. Jughead tries to keep his voice calm as he says, “What’s going on, Archie?”

Archie shrugs. “It’s a beautiful day. Thought I would check in, see how you’re getting along. You _are_ feeling okay?” He points to Jughead’s forehead. “No lingering effects…?”

“Not that I’ve noticed,” says Jughead. “I had a concussion for a couple of weeks, but I followed my doctor’s advice and took it easy, refrained from intense physical activity. Y’know, limited my screen time.”

He smiles wryly as he says it. Charles had been his “doctor.” And he had been in the bunker for the duration of his concussion. He had only his typewriter and the Stonewall Prep murder board for company. There was no chance of doing much in the way of physical activity or screen time.

_Of course,_ Jughead thinks, _Archie probably would have passed the time in the bunker by doing one armed push ups and jump squats_.

“That’s good,” Archie says absently. He clears his throat: “Jug – ”

“Archie – ” he says at the same time. They both stop and look at each other in hesitation. Jughead holds out a hand. “Me first,” he says. “I think I know what this is about.”

Archie winces. “I’m not sure that you do.”

“You and Betty,” Jughead says calmly and takes another sip of beer. Archie squirms uncomfortably while Jughead nods to himself. Yep, hit the nail on the head. “There’s nothing to feel bad about or apologize for,” he continues, “we all discussed it. It had to be done, Archie. You and Betty were just… playing a part.”

Archie sighs. “Jug – ”

“ – and look,” Jughead continues, “it worked, didn’t it? It did exactly what we needed it to do. We bought ourselves time. Enough time to get to the bottom of all this.”

“Jughead, stop,” says Archie. He takes a breath. “You’re right, this is about Betty. But it’s not that. I know that we were just acting. It didn’t mean anything.” He takes another breath, and then plunges forward, “That’s what I told myself, Jug. But the thing is – ”

Jughead winces a little more with each word. He does not like where this is going – he does not like it _at all_. “Archie, don’t – ”

But he can’t stop him. In a rush, as if desperate to get it out, Archie says, “The thing is, it wasn’t completely an act. At least, not for me. I have feelings for her. Betty, I mean. I know I shouldn’t, Jug, believe me. I know that we did this for you, and that Betty loves you, but I can’t stop thinking about her.”

Jughead can only stare. The beer suddenly feels very cold in his hand. He sets it down on the ground and sees a line of ants scurrying from the end of the deck and towards the kitchen door. He almost opens his mouth to say something about the ants – almost. Then he closes his mouth. It does not seem like the right response to this situation.

Not that he knows what he _is_ supposed to say. _“Back off, that’s my girlfriend?”_ Throw a punch? Tell Archie to stay the hell away from Betty?

“Why are you telling me this?” Jughead finally manages.

Archie sounds strained. “Jug, I promise you, whatever I’m feeling, I won’t act on it.”

Jughead can’t stop his sigh of irritation. “Thanks Archie, very noble of you, I really appreciate the difficult sacrifice you’re making. Except, oh yeah, Betty doesn’t feel the same way about you. So it’s not really much of a sacrifice, is it?”

He realizes he sounds defensive. _Get a handle on yourself, Jones_ , he thinks. _Hear him out._

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean it that way,” Archie says quickly. “Betty hasn’t done anything to make me think she has feelings for me. You need to know that.”

“I _do_ know that,” says Jughead through gritted teeth.

“I know, sorry. I’m saying this all wrong,” Archie says in a rush. He opens his mouth, thinks, and then closes it. Finally, after some consideration, he says, “Jughead, this has been eating me up. Ever since you’ve come back to school, I can’t stop thinking about how I was kissing Betty while you were…”

“Lying half-unconscious in a doomsday bunker?”

Archie looks sheepish. “Yeah.”

“Just how much kissing did you and Betty do while I was out of commission?”

“The one time only,” says Archie quickly. Then he says, “But it was intense, Jughead.”

“I don’t need the details.”

They lapse into awkward silence, neither of them looking at the other. Jughead glances down at his feet, sees his beer, and bends down to pick it up. He takes a long swig. The beer is cold as it moves down his throat and settles in his stomach.

“Archie,” he finally says, “why now? Betty loved you for years. Hell, she was still half in love with you when we first started dating. But she moved on. And _now_ you decide that you love her back?”

“I know that,” says Archie, “and I’m with Veronica. I _love_ Veronica. But then we had that kiss and it just felt… it felt right, Jughead, like… like we were always meant to do that.”

Jughead really wants to sit down. He looks around him. There’s no patio furniture and the line of ants he spotted earlier is _still there_ , still trying to invade the Andrews’ home. _Good_ , he thinks. He hopes that the ants eat the entire foundation.

“Archie,” he says. He tries to sound patient. He doesn’t feel very patient. He feels like maybe he wants to throw a punch at Archie’s nose after all. But still. He forces himself to be patient. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but over the years, you’ve thought it ‘ _felt right_ ’ with a lot of different people.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Remember Ms. Grundy? Your _teacher_?”

Archie shifts uncomfortably. “That was a long time ago.”

“Yeah, and since that time there was Valerie and Veronica and Josie and – ” _And now Betty_. He’s feeling defensive again. He reminds himself that this doesn’t change anything. Archie’s feelings - or whatever Archie thinks they are - they are have _nothing_ to do with his relationship with Betty. Archie’s feelings are his problem. Not Jughead’s. Not Betty’s. He sighs. “Archie, you have a girlfriend. Have you spoken to Veronica about any of this?”

Archie hesitates. He looks away from Jughead and plays idly with the cap on his beer. Jughead assumes the answer to that is no – no, Archie hasn’t spoken to his girlfriend about any of this. He feels a headache beginning to build. He rubs absently at the scar above his eye and reminds himself – again – to be patient.

“I don’t want to hurt her. I thought this was nothing, Jug. I was just imagining things and it would go away.” His voice sounds strained. “The truth is, it hasn’t been right between me and Ronnie for a long time. We haven’t spent much time together the last little while and, when we did, we have mostly been – ”

“Still don’t need the details,” Jughead reminds him.

Archie nods and goes on. “We’re on different paths, Jug. I know that Ronnie is planning to stay here next year to look out for her father, but we need to face facts. She is eventually going to leave here for university. She’s too smart not to. But me? I don’t know if I’m even going to graduate high school. Never mind go on to university. I’m not sure I even want to leave Riverdale. Veronica, though? She was always just passing through here.”

Jughead nods. It all makes a sick, twisted kind of sense. Archie and Veronica are growing apart, living with the inevitably that their relationship is on borrowed time. Veronica had a bright future ahead of her and Archie’s future was uncertain. He was scrambling to latch on to something, _someone_ familiar to him – Betty Cooper, the girl next door, the girl who had always been there for him.

He looks across the yard – the flowerbeds lovingly shaped by Fred Andrews, the lawn where they used to run through the sprinkler, the shed that Archie and Fred built the year before he died. He can see and remember hundreds of memories – playing catch, hide-and-seek, sipping lemonade, building a doomsday bunker, and laughing, always laughing.

He sees all of that, their childhood, him and Archie, and he has never felt further away from his best friend.

“I don’t think you should be talking to me about this, Archie,” he says heavily. “You need to talk to your girlfriend. And – ” his next words are more painful than Archie will ever know, “- you need to talk to Betty.”

“No, Jughead, no,” he says. “I’ve already decided. No one has to know.”

“ _I know_ ,” says Jughead through gritted teeth. “If you really wanted to keep this to yourself, you would have. But you didn’t. It’s out of the box, Archie. You can’t ask me to take on the burden of this secret for you. I won’t.” Archie’s jaw is working and Jughead can tell his friend is near tears. He takes another long sip of beer and the alcohol pools heavily in his stomach. “You can’t keep this from Veronica. It’s not fair to her.”

“Okay,” says Archie quickly, hanging his head. “You’re right. I will.”

“And if you… if you really are having feelings for Betty then I’m not the person you should be speaking to.”

“Jughead, I meant what she said. She never has to know.”

“I know you meant it,” says Jughead softly. “But if being around Betty is too hard for you or you start acting strangely, she deserves to know why. And I won’t lie to her for you, Archie. That’s not how our relationship works.”

“Okay,” he says. He sounds sad and defeated.

Jughead feels the first stirring of sympathy for his friend. There is almost no chance that Archie’s relationship with Veronica can survive this. And he could lose his best friends too – in the very least, Jughead can’t see how they all get out of this with everything staying the same.

Jughead sighs and shuffles up to Archie’s side. He puts a hand on Archie’s shoulder and squeezes. Archie looks so pitiful that he can’t help himself from saying, “Arch, it’s going to be okay. If you and Veronica are meant to be, you’ll find your way through this.”

Archie nods. “I really am sorry, Jug.”

“I know,” says Jug. He releases Archie’s shoulder. Without another word, he takes his beer and heads back home.

***

Jughead knows that he has always been a little… strange.

Growing up, Archie was his only friend. Truth is, if Archie hadn’t wriggled his way into Jughead’s life when they were in pre-school, Jughead isn’t sure he ever would have had _any_ friends.

He always told himself he was okay with it. He had his books. He had his family. He had a scrap of paper and a set of pens. He didn’t need friends.

Besides, he lived in a trailer on the wrong side of town with parents who were always fighting and a father who drank too much. He couldn’t just bring his schoolmates home to _that_. Jughead knew what happened when schools got wind of alcoholic dads and parents who were too busy fighting to fix dinner. First came well-meaning counsellors. Then came social services and random house visits. Then came the foster system.

And Jughead was not going to be the reason his family broke apart.

So all through school, Jughead kept to himself. Don’t look anyone in the eye. Don’t talk too much. Just sit in the back and try to be invisible. At lunch, he took whatever book he happened to be reading to the corner of the cafeteria and pulled it up in front of his nose in hopes that no one would notice him.

And mostly he did okay. He stayed under the radar. But the thing about kids is - they can be cruel.

There were times when Reggie and his friends tracked him down to the corner of the cafeteria, pulled the book out of his hands, grabbed the beanie off his hand, and then tossed it between them. “ _Catch it, little monkey,_ ” Reggie would sing-song as the other kids shook with laughter.

Jughead would hunch down in his seat, cheeks burning in embarrassment, trying to ignore them. _Ignore them and they’ll stop. Don’t draw attention to yourself. Ignore them and they will get bored._

But Archie was always there for him – faster than any of the teachers. He would be in Reggie’s face, shouting at him to “ _Give it back_ ” and “ _What is wrong with you?”_ and “ _That’s my friends_.”

It never took Archie long to get Jughead’s beanie back. He would collapse in the seat next to Jughead, chest puffed out, exhilarated and angry all at once. “ _Here_ ,” he would say, shooting dirty looks in Reggie’s direction and in the direction of anyone else who would _dare_ mess with his friend.

And on it went over the years. Some of the pranks got worse with time – there was a particularly memorable _moment_ when Jughead was 12 and some kids started a rumour that he was going to come to school with a gun. His parents were called to the office, but it was Fred and Mary Andrews who came to his defence, threatening to sue them, _sue them all_ if they let this _offensive, class-based rumour persist._

The other kids mostly left him alone after that.

Jughead is painfully aware that if it hadn’t been for Archie Andrews that he never would have made it all the way through high school. He would have been sent to the foster system or dropped out or started selling drugs just like his mom.

He is also aware that if it hadn’t been for Archie Andrews, he might never have had any reason to speak to Betty Cooper. And _that_? That is a world he can’t bear to think about.

Jughead sinks into these thoughts through the rest of the afternoon and dinner. He tries to keep up with conversation where he can – nod in the right places, look scandalized when Alice and his father go on about the latest scheme cooked up by Hiram Lodge to make life harder for the poor and the Southside. But he knows he is not fooling Betty. She throws him inquiring looks that he steadfastly pretends he doesn’t see. 

They weren’t supposed to keep things from each other. That was a promise. A _sacred_ promise. When they kept things from each other, that was the only time their relationship wobbled.

It’s not his secret, though, it’s Archie’s secret, and as much as he hates keeping anything from Betty, he has to keep this one to himself. If he tells Betty then it will get back to Veronica and that is not how Veronica deserves to find out that her relationship with Archie has an expiry date.

Jughead excuses himself as soon as dinner is over and he practically bolts up the stairs to his – _their_ – room. He is not surprised that Betty follows right behind him.

“Jug, is everything okay?” she says as soon as they are alone.

She closes the door to their room and Jughead turns to face her. She’s leaning back against the door and peering at him like she can see through him. He feels a moment of panic because if she keeps looking at him like _that_ – all soft and concerned and loving, he really will break down and tell her everything.

_Archie’s secret to tell_ , he reminds himself. He searches for something else to say and finally lands on something that is almost the truth.

“I was just thinking about how Yale is off the table for me,” he says. “What with being accused of plagiarism and all. And then… dying.”

Betty smiles a little sadly. “I had almost forgotten about Yale.”

“I guess almost being murdered takes precedence, doesn’t it?”

“Kind of does,” says Betty, still with that sad smile. She closes the distance between them and wraps her arms around him, nuzzling her lips against his neck. He stills at her touch.

“I love when you do that,” he says.

“Mmm, I know.” She presses a kiss to his neck and then turns to peer up at him, eyes searching his. “Jug, you know Yale doesn’t mean anything to me anymore if you’re not with me. You do know that, don’t you?”

He wants to protest and tell her that she can’t let an opportunity like this pass her by. Yale is her dream. But how can he say anything when she’s looking up at him like that? He sighs contentedly and lets himself melt against her, arms hooking around her waist. His nose comes down to brush against the top of her head and he breathes her in.

“I just want to be with you,” he whispers. “That’s all I want. I don’t care where we go.”

“That’s all I want, too,” she says. She sounds a little choked up and he knows she’s thinking all over again at how close she came at losing him.

He turns his head to press his lips to hers, firm and insistent. She melts into him, hands snaking under his t-shirt, pressing up against his back. Her touch sends shivers down his spine and he tangles his hands in her hair, tilting her head back and walking her backwards towards their bed. His conversation with Archie melts to the back of his mind as he loses himself in her touch.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _This is great. This is just what he needs. Trapped in the godforsaken music room – the scene of the illicit encounter that started this all – with his girlfriend and his best friend and this goddamn secret._
> 
> _The only way this could get better is if Cheryl joined them to record the whole thing on her phone._

Three days pass and nothing happens.

At least, Jughead assumes nothing happens because Archie and Veronica are still dating and Betty hasn’t mentioned anything to him about Archie pouring out his feelings to her and she and Veronica are still driving the “we-have-got-to-stop-our-boyfriends-from-failing-out-of-senior-year” train.

Jughead does not like it. It makes him feel antsy. He feels like he is watching slowly darkening skies for a thunderstorm that keeps building and building with no release.

He has a free period and Betty made him promise that he would use the time to start catching up a semester’s worth of calculus. He settles himself in the student lounge with his math book open on his lap and a pad of paper on his knee. He fully intends to follow through on his promise to Betty, and even manages to get through one page of the calculus book, but his mind is drifting. Instead of math problems, he finds himself idly doodling shapes and squares on his notepad.

That’s why he doesn’t see Cheryl and Toni before it is too late.

The couch bounces as Cheryl sits down on one side of him. Before he can react, Toni takes a seat on his other side and in a voice that is _far_ too sweet, says, “Hey, Jug. How’s it going?”

He is immediately suspicious. He glances at Toni and then over to Cheryl. Cheryl leans in towards him and gives him a dazzling, red lipstick lined smile.

“I’m just catching up on my math homework,” he says. He tries to sound busy and dismissive and he hopes very much that they will leave him alone.

They do not.

“Nice try,” says Toni, “but we’ve been watching you. You haven’t looked down at that book in ten minutes.” She makes a tsking sound in the back of her throat. “That school has made you soft, Jones. A true Serpent always pays attention to their surroundings.”

“Such is our gain though,” says Cheryl as she leans even _closer_ to him. Jughead instinctively tries to back out of her way and ends up bumping into Toni. “Now, now,” she purrs, “don’t be alarmed. We come bearing information.”

“Cheryl, stop,” says Toni. “You said you weren’t going to taunt him.”

“And I’m not,” says Cheryl, still with a big smile. The smile makes Jughead feels like she’s a lioness swooping in to catch her prey. “Now, I promised my dear cousin that I wouldn’t say anything, but Toni here convinced me that I should. She still feels loyal to you for some unfathomable reason.”

“It’s a Southside thing,” says Toni.

“I know, babe,” says Cheryl. She sends a fond smile in Toni’s direction before zeroing on Jughead again. “The point is, you have Toni to thank for us coming to you today.”

Jughead is almost certain that he does not want to know whatever they have to share with him. Archie’s secret is more than enough. He does not need another one. Especially when the source is Cheryl Blossom.

He clears his throat. “Cheryl, I really appreciate you looking out for me like this – ” that is a lie, but it seems like a necessary one “ – but it’s fine. I don’t need you to break anyone’s confidence.”

Cheryl’s red painted lips narrow into a thin line and then she smiles again. “Did you not hear me? I have news to share about my dearest cousin Betty.”

Jughead sighs and grits his teeth. “Fine,” he says. “What is it?”

Cheryl’s eyes glint like she’s about to go in for the kill. “The course of true love never did run smooth,” she murmurs.

Jughead rubs at his eyes. “Cheryl, I have ten chapters of calculus to read and 15 more minutes to read those chapters before the bell rings. If you have something to say, then just say it.”

“Fine,” she says primly. “Betty might have convinced you and Veronica and even herself that her little tryst with Archie Andrews these last few weeks was no more than a show. But I know my cousin better than she thinks. That was no mere act.”

Jughead sighs deeply. “Cheryl,” he says in a strained voice, “that was all a _plan_. To convince my Stonewall Prep schoolmates that I really was dead. That’s all that was.”

“Oh Jughead,” says Cheryl, feigning sadness. “If it was all just an act then ask yourself: why was this whole school, nay, the whole town so quick to believe that Betty and Archie would get together when your body had yet to even be buried?”

He does not have a good answer to that. In truth, he’s never really thought about just how easily all of Riverdale High accepted that Betty and Archie were dating after he “died.” Even Alice had seemed to accept their coupling without question.

He feels a headache building behind his eye. He rubs at his face.

Toni places a comforting hand on Jughead’s shoulder. “You okay, Jones?”

Jughead’s mouth is dry and he manages a nod before fumbling to gather his things. “I don’t know what you think you saw, Cheryl, but it’s going to take a lot more than this to come between me and Betty, okay?”

The words have barely left his mouth when Veronica rushes into the lounge. She looks around and then zeroes in on Jughead. He swallows uncomfortably. She looks _furious_. But she also looks uncharacteristically harried. Veronica is the most put together person he knows. But her eyes are a little too wide. Her hair is frazzled like she has been pulling and tugging at it.

Cheryl jumps to her feet. “Veronica,” she says startled. “You look frightful. My god, what’s happened? What can we do?”

Veronica shrugs out of Cheryl’s way and instead rushes over to Jughead. “Where’s Betty?” she demands.

Jughead swallows. “She has biology. What’s – um – what’s going on?”

Veronica’s eyes flash. “Nothing is going on. I just need her, okay Jughead? I need my best friend. Where is she?”

Cheryl and Toni flank Veronica on either side. “We’ll go and get her,” says Cheryl. She wraps an arm around Veronica’s shoulder and shoots Jughead a dirty look as if he is somehow responsible for all of this. “Come on.”

Veronica lowers her head and begins to cry as Cheryl leads her away. Jughead feels rooted to the spot, pinned down by a force that is rapidly spinning out of control.

***

The rest of the day passes in a blur. He drags himself to calculus and does not listen to a word or open his textbook. In English class, he stares blankly at the desk in front of him – the empty desk where Betty is supposed to be. He checks his phone over and over under the desk hoping that she will text him with an explanation. But there is nothing.

Class crawls by, each minute slower than the one before. Finally, the last bell of the day rings and Jughead bolts to his locker. He sighs in relief when he finds Betty waiting for him.

“Hey,” she says in greeting. “I guess you heard about Veronica and Archie.”

“Sort of,” he says. He opens his locker and starts piling his books inside on autopilot – his calculus book, a dog-eared copy of _The Great Gatsby_ , and his notebook. He pushes everything inside. He already knows he won’t be doing any homework that evening. “I can guess. They broke up.”

“Yep,” Betty says heavily.

He pushes his locker closed and then slings his now empty backpack over his shoulder. “I can also guess that it wasn’t exactly mutual.”

“Nope,” says Betty. She sounds tired. “Apparently Archie thinks that they are heading in different directions in life. He told her it would be less painful for them now if they ended things than if they were forced to break up later.”

He manages a jerky nod. “I see.”

Betty shakes her head. “I’ve never seen Veronica like this. She’s heartbroken, Jug. I don’t know what to do for her.”

“She’ll be okay,” he says. He has no idea if that’s true, but the need to comfort Betty and reassure her is automatic. “You know Veronica. She’ll go to New York for the weekend, take in a show and the opening of a new club and come back with a suitcase full of designer bags. She’ll get through it.”

“You’re probably right,” she murmurs. They walk down the hall together, Betty lost to her thoughts. Finally, in a hesitating voice, she says, “Jug, do you think this is my fault?”

Jughead stops walking and Betty stutters to a stop. “Why would it be your fault?”

She shrugs. “Look at what I’ve put them through the last few weeks,” she says. She fiddles nervously with her ponytail. “It was our war against the Preppies, Jug. Not theirs. And we dragged them into it – made them lie to everyone, got them _arrested_ in front of the whole school. Maybe it was too much stress. I never asked them to do what they did. I just assumed…”

“Hey,” he says softly, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Archie and Veronica would go to the ends of the earth for you. For us. It was never a question. You can’t blame yourself.”

She looks reassured, but all he feels is guilty. His words are not quite true, are they? He grits his teeth. He can’t bear lying to her anymore. He grabs her hand and pulls her into the nearest empty classroom… which just happens to be the music room.

_Of course_ , he thinks. _Christ._

Betty is confused. “Jug?” she prods.

“I have something to tell you,” he says. He drops her hand and starts pacing. How to tell her? _What_ to tell her? _Archie, your best friend, the boy you loved for about half your life – yeah, thing is, he loves you back now, and that was kind of why he had to break up with Veronica, your other best friend. But I meant what I said before – don’t blame yourself!_

He probably shouldn’t put it like that.

“Jug, you’re making me nervous.”

He stops his pacing and turns to face her. “Archie asked to see me the other night,” he starts. He swallows and Betty crosses her arms over her chest suspiciously.

“You know something,” she says, her voice sharp. She peers at him with narrowed eyes. “You know something about Archie and Veronica.”

He hesitates and then nods. Before he can explain himself, there’s a knock on the door and then Archie pokes his head in the room. Jughead almost groans aloud – _of course_ it would be Archie.

“Hey guys,” he says brightly, looking from Jughead and then to Betty, “can I come in?”

Betty makes a “humph” noise, and then says, “Yeah, Arch. Come on in. We were just talking about you.” She says the last bit daringly, her arms still folded across her chest. “I, for one, would like an explanation as to what happened this afternoon with Veronica. Right Jughead?”

Jughead doesn’t answer because Archie is shooting him panicked and questioning looks. He mouths what looks like: _“Did you tell her?_ ”

Jughead shakes his head and gestures at Betty before mouthing back, “ _No, but I was about to_.”

Before Archie can respond, Betty’s voice interrupts them. “You guys, I can _see_ you. Will you _please_ tell me what is going on?”

This is great. This is just what he needs. Trapped in the godforsaken music room – the scene of the illicit encounter that started this all – with his girlfriend and his best friend and this goddamn _secret_.

The only way this could get better is if Cheryl joined them to record the whole thing on her phone.

Betty’s gaze swings back to Jughead and in a hurt voice says, “Jug, I thought we weren’t going to be keeping things from each other anymore.”

Jughead feels rooted in place by her stare. He feels guilty and terrified all at once. She’s right, of course she’s right. After everything that he and Betty have been through, he knows that they are stronger than this. He knows that she would choose him again and again.

But he can’t quite shake the doubt nagging at the back of his mind. He can’t forget just how eager Cheryl was to tell him that Betty’s feelings for Archie were more than just an act.

These feelings that Archie has – or thinks he has – destroyed his relationship with Veronica. Jughead can’t bear the idea that it might destroy his relationship too.

He wants so badly to be secure enough to let Archie and Betty work this out without interfering. But the fear of losing Betty is _overwhelming._ They have become so tangled up in each other these last few years that the thought of having to go on and survive without her is unfathomable. Where would he be? Who would he be?

And Betty is still _looking_ at him, waiting for an explanation that is not coming.

“This isn’t Jughead’s fault,” Archie cuts in. “Jughead has been keeping something from you, Betty. But it’s only because I asked him to.”

Archie’s eyes are bright but determined. _This is it,_ Jughead thinks. This is where Archie is planning to tell her. It _would_ be this room – of course it would be.

A part of Jughead can’t help but admire Archie. His friend is almost certainly going to be shot down, but he is still willing to put himself out there and throw himself into the deep end. It’s the same bullheadedness and self-belief that propelled Archie so many times into stepping into a boxing ring for matches he would almost certainly lose. And it is that same belief that had him stepping between Jughead and Reggie and other kids who wanted to bully Jughead when they were younger.

Archie wears his heart on his sleeve, but he is still somehow still _assured_ despite it. Like he knows that no matter what happens, it will work out for him somehow.

When has Jughead ever been that assured? He prefers to analyze a problem from all angles, find the hole in the problem, and then plug those holes. He has his murder boards and his writing. He has never jumped headfirst into anything.

“Betty, I think that you and Archie should talk,” he forces himself to say. He sounds hoarse. “Alone.”

Betty blinks and then bites her bottom lip. He can tell she has a million questions for him, but she only says, “Okay.”

“I’ll wait for you outside,” he says. His voice is still hoarse, but he pushes on. “I’ll meet you out front. We’ll walk home together.”

There’s a heaviness inside of him as he says the words, but he manages to press a kiss to the top of Betty’s forehead in good-bye. He breathes in the scent of her shampoo and facewash. Then he straightens and forces himself to walk to the door. His eyes cut to Archie’s face as he goes by him. His best friend gives a silent nod, his eyes grateful.

Once he’s outside the music room, he lets out a sharp breath. The halls around him are quiet and deserted. Most kids have gone home for the day.

He hesitates outside the door. He told Betty he would meet her outside. But who is he kidding? He might be willing to step aside and give Archie and Betty the space they need for this conversation, but he is still human.

They had settled on the music room for Betty and Archie’s “kiss” for a reason. The door had a long thin piece of glass through it. That glass made it the perfect spot for their ruse to be accidently-on-purpose discovered by Cheryl.

Jughead uses that same window now to peer in at them.

“ _All actions have consequences, boy_ ,” his father told him once, “ _you put on that jacket and you can’t ever take it off. The Serpents become a part of you_.”

This isn’t the Serpents, but actions still have consequences. The four of them, they put this plan in motion, and they were naïve enough to think they could do it without hurting anyone.

They were wrong.

He can’t hear what Betty and Archie are saying, but Archie is speaking first. Betty’s face goes from suspicious and annoyed to worried and, finally, to shocked. Her hands wring nervously in front of her and then she begins to pace, gesturing animatedly around her. Finally, she stops her pacing and faces Archie, throwing her arms up in front of her as if to say, “ _What the hell?”_

And then Archie shrugs and manages a smile that says “ _aw shucks_ ” and gives her a rueful shake of his head. Betty shakes her head, her eyes filling with tears. Archie moves towards her, but she holds out a hand to stop him.

He can imagine what she’s saying. “ _Why now, Arch? After everything – why now?”_

And Archie’s response, “ _Believe me, Betty, if I could go back in time, I would. But I can’t. I’m not expecting anything from you. I just thought you should know.”_

He can imagine her protesting, saying, “ _This is my fault. If I hadn’t come up with that stupid plan – if we hadn’t kissed – ”_

_“Betty, no. This isn’t your fault. It’s true that the kiss made me realize I had feelings for you, but Betty, don’t you understand? I always did. It just took me until now to realize it.”_

Back and forth they go. Betty is crying and Archie is reaching for her and finally she lets him. He hugs her and Betty is pulled in tight to his chest, his arms wrapped around her, chin pressed down against the top of her head.

Jughead turns away from the window. His headache from earlier is back and pounding behind the scar over his eye. What is he _doing_? He was going to give them space. Watching them like this… he is doing nothing but torturing himself.

He forces himself to move, to walk down the wall, to turn his back on Betty and Archie and leave them to it. He tells himself it will all work out. He tries to believe it.

**

Jughead waits for Betty on the steps outside of school just like he said he would. He sits down on the top step, pulling his legs up tightly against his body. The breeze is chilly and he tugs his beanie down over the tips of his ears. In front of him, the wind kicks up a pile of old leaves that dance across the walkway.

He has spent many years reassuring himself that whatever feelings Betty might have once had for Archie were long gone. What if he was wrong? What would he do?

What was the _right_ thing to do? Stand out of the way and let them explore it? Ultimatums never worked. If Betty wanted to be with him, it had to be her choice.

He cradles his face in his hands, his head now _pounding_. Charles said the worst of his concussion symptoms were over, but stressful situations could still bring on a migraine. Right now, it feels like a pencil is trying to push its way through his skull and out through the other side of his head.

He rubs at his eyes and heaves out a shuddering sigh. He feels like he could figure it all out if only this headache would just _stop_.

Behind him, the door to the school opens and then shudders to a close. Footsteps approach and then stop.

“Jug,” says a voice – Betty’s voice.

He looks up – her eyes a red-rimmed with tears. Her ponytail is loose like she’s been pulling at strands of her hair. There’s a wobble in her chin.

His stomach bottoms out. “Hi,” he whispers, his mouth dry. He bows his head. He searches desperately for something to say. “It’s okay,” he finally says. “If you want to explore something with Archie then I won’t stand in your way.”

“Jug” she says, and there’s a break in her voice. She stops and then tries again. “Don’t be an idiot.”

He raises his head, some of the dread in his stomach beginning to uncoil. Tears spill down her cheeks, but she manages a smile for him.

“I just meant,” he begins haltingly, “if there was something there, something you would regret then I wouldn’t – ”

“I know what you meant, Jug,” she says impatiently. She reaches down a hand to him, chin wobbling again. “Now can you _please_ just hold me?”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He jumps to his feet and gathers Betty into his arms. She sobs once and then relaxes, gripping him so tightly that it’s almost a struggle to breathe.

He smooths a hand down her hair and then down her back. He kisses the top of her head and then presses his forehead to hers, breathing heavily. She turns her head and kisses him, her lips dry and salty from her tears. But the kiss is insistent and desperate and he leans into her, his hands pressing against the small of her back. She breaks their kiss and draws in a sharp breath before nestling her face into the crook of his shoulder.

He holds her, rocking them gently back and forth. The wind picks up, cold against his cheeks and the back of his neck. But he doesn’t let her go. He feels like they’re at the centre of a storm and his only job is to keep holding on to her.

Finally, Betty’s grip loosens, and she pulls away, wiping at her eyes. “I love you,” she says.

He nods. His headache is still there, but the worst of the pounding recedes. “I love you, too.”

“Good,” she says. She manages a strained laugh and shakes her head. “Can we go home now?”

“Yeah,” he says.

They leave the school hand-in-hand.

**

At home, they head straight to their room and close the door behind them. They can go down for dinner later. All Jughead wants is to hold Betty close. Wordlessly they both strip down to a t-shirt and underwear. Jughead glances over to the window. There is still enough sun coming in from outside that they don’t have to turn on a light. But he is suddenly all too aware that they can see into Archie’s room and vice versa.

His goes to close the blinds and he looks back at Betty, suddenly feel awkward. “Can I…?” he says.

She nods. “Good idea.”

He draws the blinds closed. The view into Archie’s room disappears.

The blinds also block out most of the sunlight, but he doesn’t bother to turn on a light. The hazy darkness of the room matches his mood.

He crawls into bed next to Betty and then pulls the comforter up over top of them. She settles over his chest, her ear pressed over his heart, her fingers playing with the bottom of his t-shirt. The comforter is heavy and Betty’s body is warm and soft over his. He closes his eyes. It would be easy to drift off to sleep and put this whole horrible day behind him.

But his mind keeps working. What happened in the music room between Betty and Archie? Is there any truth to what Cheryl and Toni were trying to tell him?

His migraine from earlier begins to throb behind his eye.

Betty shifts on top of him and he opens his eyes to find her propped up on one elbow and staring down at him. “I can practically _hear_ you thinking.”

He throws an arm across his face. “That is scientifically impossible.”

She sighs and then her fingers are on his forehead, gently tracing his scar and then skirting down the edge of his face and to his jaw. She presses a kiss to his chin and then says, “Your forehead scrunches up when you’re obsessing over something. You gotta be careful or my mother will start warning you about premature aging.”

He removes the arm from his face and blinks at her. “My forehead doesn’t scrunch.”

She smiles indulgently. “I love your scrunch. It tells me when there’s something going on up there that I need to be worried about.” In a more serious voice, she says, “Come on, Jug. Let’s talk about it. What do you want to know?”

He sighs and looks up at the ceiling. He almost feels like a broken record at this point, but he decides to spit out. “Is there a part of you that still has feelings for Archie?”

A moment passes before she answers. When she does, her voice is soft, “Maybe.”

“I’m sorry, _maybe_?” he repeats. “What does that mean?”

“It means… it’s complicated.”

He hisses out a breath. “It’s not that complicated. Either you have feelings for him or you don’t. For what it’s worth, Cheryl Blossom was all too happy to tell me that you and Archie did not have to do all that much pretending to sell your fake relationship.”

He knows his words are biting but he can’t stop himself. They just went through this. She looked him in the eye and assured him that he was the only man for her. And here they are, treading that same ground _yet again_.

He suddenly feels smothered and warm – too warm. He shifts over so that they are no longer touching and pushes down on the comforter so it is only covering half his chest.

“Jug, you asked the question,” she says, an edge to her voice. “I’m sorry that you don’t like the answer but I’m trying to be honest with you.”

He presses a hand to his eye – it is positively _throbbing_ and then kicks off the covers. “I’m going to get some Advil,” he mutters. “Headache.”

He glances back at her as he leaves the room. Her face is stricken and worried and it feels like a stab to the heart. She was right. He had asked her. And he _does_ want honesty.

He flicks on the light switch in the bathroom and hisses in pain when bright white light floods into his eyes. He stumbles around until he finds the extra-strength Advil. He takes a couple of pills then looks at himself in the mirror. His face his pale and the whites of his eyes are red. He shakes his head and presses his knuckles to his eyes.

_Pull yourself together, Jones_ , he thinks. He feels like he and Betty are balancing over a precipice. They need to air this out now. If they don’t, it will just keep coming back between them over and over. And this is a conversation he does not want to have again.

Determined, he heads back to the bedroom. Betty has turned on a beside lamp and she is sitting up against the headboard, her legs crossed in front of her. She peers at him in concern. “I didn’t know you were still having headaches. Maybe we should call Charles.”

“I’m fine,” he says abruptly and then winces at his tone. That’s not how he wants this to go. He takes a seat at the foot of the bed and carefully leaves a few feet of empty space between them. “I’m sorry,” he forces himself to say. He keeps his voice measured. “You were right. I did ask. I want you to feel like you can tell me anything. Even this.”

She nods and looks down, rubbing at her arms. “I don’t want to lose you, Jug.”

He almost smiles. “Hey,” he says, “that’s impossible, okay? Besides, we’ve been through much worse than this.”

She nods and sucks her bottom lip between her teeth. She hesitates before saying, “When Archie and I were pretending to date, it felt… nice.” She pauses. “It felt like a life that I could have had. You know, in a world without serial killer fathers and mothers who join organ stealing cults.” Her voice cracks. “When I was younger, I spent so much time thinking about what it would be like to date Archie. We would be the perfect couple. And then… there I was. I was in this world that I had spent so long imagining.”

She sounds so _sad_ that he can’t help moving closer to her. He shifts closer until he is sitting in front of her. He rests his hands on her knees and gives her what he hopes is a supportive nod of his head.

She wipes at a tear on her cheek and goes on. “I thought I had let go of that a long time ago. But pretending like that, in front of the whole school… it all came rushing back. I felt like… in some other, alternate universe, a normal version of Betty Cooper is dating some normal version of Archie Andrews.”

“A universe without death cults and murderous Preppies and shared half-brothers?” he says.

She shrugs. “Yeah,” she says. She shakes her head and then reaches out to cup his face. She looks into his eyes intently. “Jughead, listen to me. That version of Betty Cooper is probably bored out of her mind.”

He smiles and leans into her hand. “She’s probably not solving any murders.”

“Definitely not,” she says. She drops her hand back to her lap and sighs. “Did it feel nice to play pretend for a few minutes? Yeah, it did. But I don’t want that life, Jug. I want this one. With you. I don’t want to be with Archie.”

Silence stretches out between them and then Jughead clears his throat. “What about Archie?”

She shrugs and plays with her fingers in her lap. “He’s confused,” she says. “We will always be friends. But he knows how I feel.” She says the last part with conviction and looks him in the eye as she says it. “He knows I choose _you_ , Jug. Every time.”

Jughead nods. His headache begins to recede. He isn’t sure if the Advil is kicking in or of it is the relief spreading through him. Childhood nostalgia he can handle. He almost feels giddy – these last few days of stress and worry and Cheryl Blossom and what did it come to? Given the choice, there _was_ no real choice.

“Jug,” she says. She wraps her arms around her middle, suddenly looking at him with vulnerable eyes. “Do you think Veronica will ever forgive me?”

He sighs. He doesn’t envy how Betty will handle _that_ conversation with her best friend. Instead he says, “Archie’s feelings aren’t your fault.”

“I know,” she says, her voice breaking. “But it was my stupid plan. If I hadn’t come up with it…”

“Hey,” he says, “give Veronica some credit. She was part of the plan, too. She’s going to know Archie didn’t catch feelings just because you kissed. Whatever he’s feeling has been brewing for some time.”

She nods, but she does not look reassured. “I feel like everything is changing,” she says. “We were supposed to have these last few months to be together and enjoy it. But instead everything is breaking apart.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that. Instead he pulls her into his arms. They fall back into bed, sprawling on top of the comforter. Betty hooks a leg over his and burrows into his side.

He thinks about promising her that he isn’t going anywhere. He thinks about telling her how he sees them: at the centre of the storm and they will weather it together if they hold on tightly enough.

But it all sounds too maudlin even for him so he settles for hugging her close instead.

She frowns and opens her mouth as if to say something before closing it.

“What is it?”

Finally, she says, “I can’t believe you let Cheryl Blossom of all people get under your skin. You know what she did after she thought you died? She put me on suicide watch and followed me around for two straight days convinced that I was going to take my own life because I couldn’t cope without you.”

“Huh,” he says. He digests that. He presses his forehead to hers. “Are you saying that Cheryl isn’t a reliable source?”

She tilts her head until her lips hover over his. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Her voice is suddenly husky. He kisses her, his fingers going to her hair, rolling his body on top of hers until she’s pressed up against him in all the right places.

“I think we have done enough talking,” he says. “What do you think?”

Her eyes glint. “I can agree with that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly it seems that this fic is going to be pretty AU after 4x17, but if I worked on Riverdale and we were going down this road with Betty and Archie, this is how I would have done it. Thanks to everyone for reading. I really enjoyed receiving your comments. :)


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